As Long as He's Happy
by siriusondrun
Summary: Neville's point of veiw on the night's events and his attempt to keep Harry's head above water. Preslash, one sided NevilleHarry, OneShot, slight angst, fourth book night before the second task


A/N: Hello all! I decided I should try my hand at Harry potter fiction, as this little bugger's been worming around in my head for a solid month and still hasn't given up. XD So, anyway, without further unintelligible babbling, the fiction.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and all related stuff; I am merely a faithful servant of her.

Warnings: Fluffy angst, preslash, one-sided Neville/Harry

Neville Longbottom skidded to a halt in the empty hallway, panting for breath, one hand clenched around a jar in his robes pocket. He leaned against a wall, head back and chest heaving. Professor Snape had been in even more foul of a mood than normal today and Neville was not anticipating Potions tomorrow. The silver lining of his nerve-wracking run-in had been that he had acquired his quarry from Snape's potion stores, right in front of the sharp-tempered man no less. Now all he had to do was get it to Harry.

The whole situation with Snape had been brought about with Neville overhearing Ron, Hermione, and Harry in the library, attempting to research ways for Harry to survive the second Triwizard task. The task apparently had to do with Harry somehow surviving for and hour or more underwater in the Hogwarts lake. Neville had immediately thought of gillyweed, a water plant that he had found in the book Professor Moody had given him, which would cause Harry to grow gills for a short amount of time. He had been about to go over and tell them about it and that perhaps they could finagle some out of the Weasley twins when Fred Weasley himself had come up to the three pouring over the books and had taken Ron and Hermione to McGonagall's office. Neville had blushed at the thought of out of the blue coming over to Harry and giving him the answer to the problem up front. Then Harry would know that Neville had been eavesdropping from behind the bookcase and probably be much more annoyed that pleased.

Neville had chewed one thumbnail pensively, debating on what to do, and watched Harry from the safety of the bookcase. Harry had looked so handsome, even when he was so overwhelmed and stressed, his hair mussed from all the times Harry had run his hands through it and his chin held up on his fist as Harry ran a finger down pages, trying to find something that would work. Harry's head had begun to nod, as he had evidently been at research for most of the day and soon his head had thunked down onto the book pages as he snored softly. Neville had made up his mind then; Harry was too exhausted to figure out a way to procure the gillyweed himself in the scant few hours he had left until the second task and Neville knew exactly where some would be, as it was a common potions ingredient. Neville had to swallow his petrifying fear of Snape and steal some gillyweed, for Harry's sake.

So, with the thought of becoming the one that Harry was grateful to chasing itself joyfully around Neville's brain, Neville scurried out of the library and down to the dungeons, hoping to high hope he wouldn't be caught out after curfew by Filch or that rancid cat of his.

He made it down to Snape's office in record time, tiptoeing into the room and to the door to the ingredients store closet, which was slightly ajar. This probably meant Snape was either moving ingredients in or out and would be back very soon, but if Neville could get into the cabinet and steal the gillyweed and get back out before this happened, the overbearing bat of a man never need know his least apt student had been anywhere near his store closet that night.

Neville had gotten through two shelves' worth of tags before he heard a quickly approaching set of footsteps, followed by the door swinging all the way open. Neville had flinched as he all but heard the venomous sneer affix itself to Snape's mouth.

"Longbottom," Snape had said and Neville gulped and turned around guiltily, still searching for the gillyweed shelf tag out of the corner of his eye. "What, may I ask, is a student such as yourself doing sneaking around my stores at this time of night?"

"I-I-I-I…" Neville had faltered, groping wildly for some sort of excuse. "I forgot what the homework was, sir," he had blurted out. "I couldn't find anyone to ask and so I cam down here. The door was open so I thought you were in—"

"Ten points for being out of bed after hours and a detention for entering without permission, Longbottom," Snape had cut him off, brushing past him into the cupboard and setting bottles up on a shelf. Neville had backed away from the man's imposing black form and near the door on the shelf at waist-height had finally (with much relief) spotted a jar of gillyweed. He had inched closer to the shelf, hoping Snape wouldn't notice his shaking hand reaching out to grasp the round, squat jar and quickly tuck it into his pocket.

"The homework was two scrolls on the properties of the potion we studied in class," Snape had continued, making Neville jump and nearly drop the gillyweed bottle. "And since you seem to hopeless as to keeping track of your assignments, perhaps an extra scroll of work will keep your memory on task for the moment."

A sharp stab of hatred had boiled up within Neville chest at the injustice of this, as he hadn't truly forgotten the assignment at all, but he had suppressed it, instead nodding with a morose "Yes, sir," knowing he was going to get it from McGonagall as well for losing yet another ten house points, and quickly exited the dungeons.

So now here he was, jar in hand and a brand-new dilemma on his hands; Harry would still know that Neville had been eavesdropping uselessly on him if Neville presented him with the gillyweed and told him what it was for.

Neville mulled this over while he took the squirming tendrils of weed out of the jar and rinsed them of their sheen of protective mucus in the first-floor boy's bathroom. He rolled the tendrils into a ball and let it squiggle across his palm for a moment, fretting about what he should do. He would die if Harry disliked him; his greatest wish was for Harry's happiness. A smile on Harry's handsome face was Neville's highest aspiration and causing Harry to be angry with him for his lack of help until the last possible moment would destroy the tenuous friendship Neville had managed to form over the past four years. What to do…? Neville slumped against the wall, his eyes suddenly burning for sleep and before he knew it, he succumbed to the feeling with the gillyweed still writhing in his hand.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter's Wheezy! Dobby has to find Harry Potter for the second Triwizard Tournament task!" a shrill voice suddenly squeaked from the hall outside the bathroom, sharply waking Neville up. He winced as sunlight assaulted his eyes and he checked his watch to see what time it was. He jumped to his feet, seeing there was only ten minutes to the second task.

"Oh, dear what is Dobby to do?" the shrill voice said. "Dobby's got to find a way to help Harry Potter and Harry Potter's Wheezy!"

Neville ran some water over the withering gillyweed, perking the plant right back up, and then exited the bathroom to find a rather distressed-looking house elf wringing its batlike ears in its hands as it paced and berated itself, occasionally slamming its head into the wall with a loud, "Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!"

"Hey, um, Dobby?" Neville said, guessing that was the elf's name. The elf looked up at him with tennis ball-sized eyes.

"Yes, sir, I is Dobby, sir," the elf said, nodding enthusiastically. "What can Dobby do for you, sir?"

"Could you take this to Harry Potter for me?" Neville asked, holding out the ball of gillyweed. "It's to help him in the task. He's not got an answer for it yet I don't think, so this'll help him breathe underwater."

The elf took the ball of weeds in both hands as if it was gold, large eyes filling with tears. "Oh, thank you, sir! Harry Potter can save his Wheezy now! Oh, sir you are most kind! Who should Harry Potter know has done him the kindness?" the elf said emphatically, nearly howling with gratitude.

Neville felt his cheeks color and he shook his head. "Just say you got it, I don't need credit for it, it was nothing," he said. The elf's eyes filled with a fresh batch of joyous tears and he stuffed it into the pocket of the football shorts he was wearing.

"Thank you, sir! You are truly kind, sir!" the elf squealed, disappearing with a pop to find Harry.

Neville grinned despite his blush. Harry's "Wheezy" was probably either Ron or Ginny, and now whoever it was would be saved from whatever was going on in the lake with the merpeople. Harry would be happy and would triumph in the event and the tournament, Neville could feel it in his bones. Harry would return to his position as Hogwarts' Golden Boy, getting the praise and attention he deserved, and Neville would remain in the background, help Harry in whatever small ways he could. He didn't mind being left out, he really didn't. Just as long as Harry was happy.


End file.
